


Fade

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-07-05
Updated: 2001-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-20 19:43:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11342016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived atThe Basement, which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onThe Basement's collection profile.





	Fade

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Fade by Hammerhead

Hello All!  
I have finally decided to delurk and show my face around a few lists! I am a voracious consumer of slash especially M/K, K/Sk and M/K/Sk, I just love my X-Files men to get hot and sweaty together! A few weeks ago I decided to get my feet wet as an author, joined Pollyana's Lyric Wheel and received so much wonderful feedback that I have decided to write as often as possible! Here is my little story which is actually part of a *much* larger story that I am currently working on. Let me know what you think!  
Hammerhead

Title: Fade  
Author: Hammerhead ()  
Warnings: M/K, PG, violence, implied m/m relationship  
Notes: This is my first story ever so go easy on me! A huge thank you to Mia for chosing wonderful lyrics:)

* * *

"Fade"

I woke up a few moments ago and nothing has changed. Except maybe the pain, it is worse this time and I can no longer feel where one injury ends and another begins. My mind is still a bit foggy but the world is slowly starting to come into focus. I remember my mantra and realize that it has kept me from breaking once again.

The chill from the cement floor has sapped my body heat away, leaving me unable to stop shivering. I try to relax because the shivering causes shooting pains to flare through my body. The paper thin hospital gown does nothing at all to protect me from the cold.

It seems like I have been in this Consortium run facility forever but in reality it has probably only been a few months. They caught up to me in Seattle as I was trying to board a plane to Europe. Just 15 minutes longer and I would have escaped the country and maybe even bought myself enough time to finally go home.

Home. I can't remember what it is like to have a home and to be surrounded by family and friends. It seems a lifetime ago that I was recruited for this assignment. I was only 19 and in my second year of college when I was approached by the NSA. They spoke of honor, patriotism and adventure and I fell for it hook, line and sinker. At the time I was excelling in school and was thinking about attending the FBI Academy when I finished my degree in political science so their offer seemed like a fast track to my dreams.

I don't think I truly understood the sacrifice that the fast track was going to require until the day I died. At the age of 20 I was killed in a vehicle accident to assume my undercover identity. Even my parents and brother believe I am dead and I have not contacted them since. But I believed that I was making a sacrifice for my country, the American Way and eventually even the salvation of mankind. Shit. If I had only known then what I know now.

The chills seem to be lessening and I'm not sure if that is a good sign or if I am finally too hypothermic to shiver. The pain is not so bad anymore so it must be a good thing. I can hear water dripping somewhere and have to concentrate to remember that the faucet in the sink has a leaky seal. The room is only an 8'X 8' square with a sink, a toilet and a dirty mattress on the floor but it has been my home for longer than I can remember. The only time I leave is when they take me for more experiments or the punishments. I don't want to think of that right now.

Where was I?? Oh yeah, home. Home was a place where there was warmth and comfort, both physical and emotional. I had really great parents and a little brother to pick on but my favorite family member has always been my Uncle Walt. He isn't actually an uncle, more of a family friend but to me he is family. Walter Skinner has been part of my life since my earliest memories but it wasn't until I was 6 years old and he returned from Vietnam that he started to become one of the most important people in my life.

I was young but I can clearly remember the haunted look in his eyes and how frail he seemed to me. His family lived next door and I made it my duty to look after Walt while he recovered. For some reason he let me into his shattered world and allowed me to spend time with him. Looking back, I think he needed someone with the innocence of a child to remind him of all that was still good in the world. He also needed someone he could protect and someone he could trust. He took me under his wing like the little brother he never had and our bond was forged. Even when he got married and moved away we remained in close contact by mail, phone and occasional visits.

He was the first person I came out to when I was only 14. I remember being afraid to tell him and of losing his love and respect. I was shocked when he showed up on my doorstep the next day having taken the first flight he could manage. We went to a ball game and then we took a long walk by the waterfront to talk. He told me that his love for me was unconditional and also let me know that was not a freak to love another boy. I was so relieved to realize that he was still my friend and that he understood.

I realize that I have been drifting in my memories and I don't know how much time has passed. My remaining arm has fallen asleep from lying on it at this awkward angle but I don't care anymore. The world is becoming fuzzier and the pain has receeded until I can almost forget the damage my body has suffered. The punishment for the last escape attempt was severe and I'm pretty sure that I have broken ribs and maybe some internal bleeding. At this moment I just can't bring myself to care. I hear voices in the hallway and close my eyes hoping that they will think I am still unconscious and leave me alone.

When I wake up next the pain has returned full force. I still cannot feel my arm and that scares me a bit since I will have no way to defend myself if they come again. I don't know why I even try. Months of systematic terror and pain have reduced my body to a near invalid state. This is worse than losing my arm. At least when that happened I was able to go underground to heal and Walter took care of me.

He is the only person from my past who knows who I really am. When I finished my training and began infiltrating the Consortium my superiors realized that I would be involved with the FBI and that Walter would eventually find out that I was alive. To keep Walter from having a heart attack the first time we bumped into each other and to enlist his help on our side he was brought into the conspiracy. I will never forget the meeting when he found out I was still alive.

The meeting was held at a private retreat house on Catalina Island. Poor Walt! They didn't do much to prepare him, just dropped him off at my room and left me to fill him in on the details. At first he didn't believe it was me but I knew things that only we would know and he came to believe. We hugged and cried for what seemed like forever. I hadn't even realized just how much I missed him and what he means to me until that moment. After hours spent talking and catching up, I let him know all about the conspiracy and what my role would be at the FBI.

Since that time he has been my sanity and the only stable force in my life. No matter how bad things get and the horrible things I have had to do, he has always been there to support me and love me. Some days are harder than others, especially when my assignments involve him or his people but he knows why I have to do the things I do. The first time I had to hit him to keep my cover almost broke me. Seeing the pain on his face and feeling his body crumble under my fists was the worst but I knew if I pulled my punches the whole conspiracy could be exposed. Later he contacted me and let me know that he knew I was only doing what I had to but it still hurt us both.

He has always been here for me, the big brother I never had. Even through the terror of the silo and the pain and depression of losing my arm. After Tunguska he begged me to retire and come in from field work but the cause was just too important. I didn't admit it to him then but I was afraid to come in, afraid of what I have become. I think the nano-infection has been the final straw though. How can I apologize for torturing and killing him? I think in some sick way my current condition is payment for that final act. I am here because I could not kill Walter, this is my punishment from the Smoker.

I am suddenly dizzy and nauseous. Thankfully I keep from throwing up because I just don't have the energy anymore to keep from drowning in my own vomit. Isn't that a pretty picture? I wonder what Fox would think if he could see me know.

Yes. Fox. When we were lovers he let me call him Fox at home or at the cabin. Even though the affair was short, the vision of what we could have been has always haunted me. Walter knew from the first time that he saw me with Mulder that I was head over heels. We even had a very heated argument over why I shouldn't pursue the relationship and what it could do to my cover. But I couldn't help falling in love with the man. For all of his pig headed, arrogant and idealistic ways, he is still the most beautiful man I have ever met. When I finally cracked the walls he has built to protect himself I discovered a man who had been deeply hurt but wanted so desperately to love and be loved.

I think my betrayal was the final straw for him. Nothing dramatic like suicide but I know for a fact that he has not let himself love or be loved since I left. His video collection is just a way to drown out the pain of his everyday life. I think God that at least he has Scully and Walt to care about him.

I miss him so much. It is worse when we are thrown together because I have a hard time keeping my facade together. I just want to hold him a kiss him and spend long Saturday afternoons in bed with him. I should get an Academy Award for the acting I am forced to do.

Sometimes I get so angry with him. His fucking idealism and his ignorance of how bad it can be. Doesn't he know what they can do? What they have done? Even with all he has seen and experienced, he still thinks that I am his worst enemy. Oh Mulder you don't have a fucking clue. You think that you're so smart but you don't have a fucking clue what those men up in the towers are doing to me and you. Or should I say, have "done" to me and you. We could have had forever and now we have nothing.

But I still love him, with everything I am. If circumstances had been different, we could have been so happy together. We used to have this dream of going to a little island somewhere warm and just being together. Warm sand and glorious days making love in the sun. If only....

"Fox." I almost don't realize that I have spoken his name out loud. My voice is barely a harsh whisper these days. I have screamed until I've lost my voice more times than I can remember. There is no one here to listen to my voice anyway.

My body is starting to shake again and it scares me. This is more of a convulsion than shivering. Have they finally pushed my ability to endure to the limit? Maybe this is the beating that I will not survive. The thought does not scare me like I know it should, it is almost comforting. I think now that death is the only way I will ever escape this hell hole. No one who cares knows where I am and no one will be looking for me. Maybe they will bury me in my empty grave back home so my parents will have something real to mourn. What a morbid thought....

I hear voices in the hallway again so I start to once again whisper my personal mantra. "my name is alex krycek, my name is alex krycek...." Maybe this time I will die.

They will never break me.

End!

****************************************************

Inside Job  
* by Don Henley/Mike Campbell *

While you were sleeping  
they came and took it all away  
the lanes and the meadows  
the places where you used to play

It was an inside job  
by the well-connected  
your little protest  
summarily rejected

It was an inside job  
like it always is  
chalk it up to business as usual

While you are dreaming  
this little island disappears  
while you are looking the other way  
they'll take your right  
to own your own ideas

And it's an inside job  
favors collected  
your trusted servants  
have left you unprotected

It was an inside job  
like it always is  
just chalk it up to business as usual

You think that you're so smart  
but you don't have a fucking clue  
what those men up in the towers  
are doing to me and you  
and they'll keep doin' it and doin' it  
and doin' it and doin' it  
until we all wake up  
wake up wake up wake up wake up

I know what I've done wrong  
I am aquainted with the night  
I know how hard it is  
to alwyas walk out in the light

And it's and inside job  
to learn about forgiving  
it's an inside job  
to hang on to the joy of living

They know the road by which you came  
they know your mother's maiden name  
and what you had for breakfast  
what you've hidden in the mattress

Insect politics  
indifferent universe  
bang your head against the wall  
but apathy is worse

It's an inside job...

  
Archived: May 20, 2001 


End file.
